tophori of the temple, was awaiting
the little party, and led the way as guide.

The bellowing of beasts met them on the very threshold. These were to be
slaughtered at this early hour by the special command of Caracalla; and,
as Caesar himself had promised to be present at the sacrificial
rites, none but the priests or "Caesar's friends" were admitted to the
court-yard. The litter was therefore carried up a staircase and through
a long hall forming part of the library, with large windows looking
down on the open place where the beasts were killed and the entrails
examined. Diodoros saw and heard nothing, for the injury to the skull
had deprived him of all consciousness; Ptolemaeus, however, to soothe
Melissa, assured her that he was sleeping soundly.

As they mounted the stairs she had kept close to her lover's side; but
on this assurance she lingered behind and looked about her.

As the little procession entered the gallery, in which the rolls of
manuscript lay in stone or wooden cases on long rows of shelves, the
shout was heard of "Hail, Caesar!" mingling with a solemn chant, and
announcing the sovereign's approach.

At this the physician pointed to the court-yard, and said to the girl,
whose beauty had greatly attracted him: "Look down there if you want to
see Caesar. We must wait here, at any rate, till the crowd has gone past
in the corridor beyond that door." And Melissa, whose feminine curiosity
had already tempted her to the window, looked down into the quadrangle
and on to the steps down which a maniple of the praetorian guard were
marching, with noble Romans in togas or the uniform of legates, augurs
wearing wreaths, and priests of various orders. Then for a few minutes
the steps were deserted, and Melissa thought she could hear her own
heart beating, when suddenly the cry: "Hail, Caesar!" was again heard,
loud trumpets rang out and echoed from the high stone walls which
surrounded the inclosure, and Caracalla appeared on the broad marble
steps which led down into the court of sacrifice.

Melissa's eyes were riveted as if spell-bound on this figure, which was
neither handsome nor dignified, and which nevertheless had a strange
attraction for her, she knew not why. What was it in this man, who
was short rather than tall, and feeble rather than majestic, which so
imperatively forbade all confident advances? The noble lion which walked
by his side, and in whose mane his left hand was buried, was not more
u